


fake it if you don't belong

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Entourage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-23
Updated: 2007-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1635866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vince creates the most seductive realities. Eric indulges while they open "Aquaman" to a European audience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fake it if you don't belong

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song "Fake It" by Seether. Thanks by to Skitty the Great for never questioning my insanity.
> 
> Written for Ellidyay

 

 

Eric had no self-delusions. He knew who he was and he didn't need any Hollywood asshole to tell him shit he already knew about himself. The problem wasn't what E did or didn't get about himself; the problem was -as it had always been- Vince. 

Vince skewed reality to suit himself. Hollywood hadn't made Vincent Chase a star. Vince had _always_ been a star. Growing up, Vince had decided E was cool, so E was cool. That had been a strange state of the union back in Queens; in Hollywood, it was like living in the fucking Twilight Zone. 

The fact remained that it was easier to go along with Vince's version of reality than to accept _actual_ reality. Hell, _actual_ reality sucked. Who wanted to face up to the facts when it was so fucking easy to simply roll with the lie? Everyone indulged Vince. E didn't _have_ to be different. Who would he be hurting anyway?

The sad fucking fact was that E Murphy knew too fucking much about himself to indulge in even the smallest delusion. He knew exactly who would be hurting if he decided to give in, sit back, and enjoy the ride while Vince took the wheel. Vince didn't drive for a reason. Eric had grown up small and Irish in a neighborhood where it was good to be neither let alone both. Indulging Vince's penchant to create his own reality, Eric had forgotten that he was small and Irish to focus instead on the fact that he was Eric Murphy, Vincent Chase's best friend. That might have made him cool, but it didn't make him any less short or Irish; E took a lot of beatings before he got the difference. Since then, Eric had learned to be careful about looking at the world with his own eyes, not Vince's. 

~*~

Eric was always careful. He noticed the things Vince noticed, then he conveniently forgot all the things that he should have missed. Eric caught Vince checking out Kristen's ass and called him on it; he caught Vince glaring at her for smacking his and forgot about it. Vince could make him forget a lot of things if he wasn't careful but Eric was always careful; living Vince's life had made him careful.

"E! Are we good to go or what?" 

Vince flashed him a toothy grin and Eric smiled back automatically. 

"Yeah. Yeah! We can go. I packed everything I could think of but you did check your bag first, right?"

Vince nodded yes even though Eric already knew the answer was really no. Vince never checked up on him. Vince trusted him to take care of things and that scared the shit out of him more than anything else.

"Vince. Did you check the bag? I might have forgotten something. Do you think you'll need more than one suit?"

Vince shrugged -he didn't care, whatever E thought was fine- and headed for the door, "Whatever. If I need another, I can get one while we're there. They give them to me anyway, right?"

Yeah. No kidding. They gave them to him if E remembered to prompt him to state the designer's name for the press. 

"Alright. So we're going."

They were going. _Aquaman_ , European opening, here goes nothing.

~*~

The flight there was no more difficult than any other trip to anywhere else Vince had ever wanted to go. Vince always traveled in comfort and style. Vince did everything in comfort and style. E slid further down in his seat and tried to work around the crick in his neck; airlines didn't design for guys his size. 

"You okay? I can have her bring another pillow or a hot towel or something."

Vince was staring and E was supposed to not notice. He was supposed to be his best friend, his manager, and his _best friend_ which meant he wasn't supposed to notice. E wanted to notice though. Everyone else indulged Vince, why couldn't he? E might still be small and Irish but this wasn't fucking Queens and he sure as Hell wasn't thirteen anymore. Eric could handle himself these days; ask Ari Gold, super-agent.

"Nah. Just my neck. I'll be fine once we land."

Eric meant to look away, he always looked away, but Vince really did have the best fucking eyes. It was nice to be looked at the way that Vince looked at him when he shouldn't notice.

Vince, naturally, took it as encouragement.

"We'll get you a masseuse. The place they're putting us up in is five stars, right?"

The idea of having the tension rubbed out of his neck made his mouth go dry. Eric took a drink of water and let the leeway he'd given Vince bleed out into the carefully-casual nothingness of their _actual_ reality.

Turtle threw his two cents in with, "Yeah! Those European hotels? Fuck that man. They've got people to rub and tug out any kind of jetlag, if you know what I'm sayin'."

He exchanged a high-five with Drama and went back to his headphones. Drama laughed and adjusted his eyemask -Helps to keep down the swelling during travel. He had to look his best, right?- before dropping back off into pseudo-sleep. Vince went back to watching E and E went back to noticing only as much as was normally allowed when they were in _actual_ reality. 

~*~

Eric let himself slip a little farther when they landed. Vince was standing closer than usual which meant he'd noticed E letting his guard down. He would have moved away, gotten their bags at claim-check, made sure Turtle wasn't harassing any innocent European women, something. He didn't want to though. He wanted to give in, to pretend for a while, to _indulge_. Vince bumped into his back and Eric pretended not to notice despite being unable to miss the fact that their security escorts were keeping everyone else far, far away from them. Too far away from them for Vince to have a reason to be walking so close except that Eric was letting him.

"You good?" Vince asked, his voice loud and surreal so close to Eric's ear.

Eric nodded, smiling as people took pictures that he had no doubt would make the covers of some European tabloids even if Shauna and Ari worked double-time to keep them quiet on the American home front. He felt Vince's hand brush his own in a startling, huge dash of _actual_ reality and took two quick steps forward to keep from pushing his luck. 

"I'm good," Eric answered back.

Turtle and Drama were hamming it up for the paparazzi and Vince didn't match his steps. 

"We're all good!" Turtle fired out with a lewd gesture to some truly trashy looking women who were fighting tooth and nail to get through the security to get to 'Aquaman.'

"Good to know."

The tone scared him. Vince knew Eric wasn't talking about his neck which meant Vince knew he was _noticing_. Eric had a feeling this was all going to end badly. He wished he could care more. It was hard always being the guy who "took care of things." Fuck it. It was Europe and E was feeling _indulgent_. Reality could suck his dick.

~*~

At the hotel, the concierge showed them to their rooms and it turned out that Turtle and Drama were down the hall in a double-bed deluxe while E was sharing the suite with Vince. Vince shot a Mona Lisa smile at him when Eric went to put his travel bag in his room. Eric didn't think now was the time to notice _anything_ so he let it go.

The opening program director was already working them by the time they got showered and changed. Dinner was boring and expensive and they served wine that was too sour for boys from Queens. Eric ignored the way that Vince's foot touched his lightly under the table and kept on ignoring all the myriad little things that he ordinarily would have put the kibosh on in _actual_ reality. 

When Drama and Turtle started to look at each other nervously, Eric told himself _this is Europe. Fuck Europe_ and ate the bite of cheesecake Vince was holding out to him with his fork. It wasn't like he was eating from his fingers, right? Fuck 'em. The director didn't get antsy about anything until they all balked at the notion of having to dress and hit the carpet _in an hour_. They had just fucking landed and _now_ they were walking the carpet? Un-fucking-believable.

"You're kidding me, right?"

Herr Director nodded a sharp no, "This was discussed with your agent. We thought you knew when the premiere was scheduled."

Eric remembered his duties in time to lay a hand on Vince's arm, "We'll be there. Let me get him upstairs and into a suit and we'll be right down. You'll have the car ready in half an hour?"

It wasn't a request so E wasn't surprised when the guy nodded an emphatic yes. It wasn't his usual style of working Vince either so he really wasn't shocked when Vince started obediently walking toward the elevator banks with no further protest. The silence from the rest of their party would have been a great warning if E had been waiting for one.

"Go get dressed and meet us down at the car. We'll be there."

Drama gave Turtle A Look and E was reminded once again how it was a miracle Vince could act given those two shared DNA. Turtle wasn't satisfied without having his two fucking cents though.

"You going to fucking dress him yourself, E? That's how it sounded down there, in case you weren't aware, Mr. Hot-Shot Manager."

"Turtle." Vince's face was hard. It had been a long time since Eric had seen him that way. Probably fifth grade when E had nearly gotten killed by Vince's fucked up older brother when Ricky had caught him asleep in Vince's bed after school; Eric had just been sleeping but he knew what Ricky had thought and Vince had obviously known too right before he slugged him in the head with his old Little League bat.

"What-the-fuck-ever, man. See you down there."

Vince and Eric did not talk while they got dressed in their respective rooms but Vince left his door open while he dressed -which was normal for him- and Eric did too -which was not for him- and Eric stood very still while Vince's big hands fixed his tie for him. On ordinarly, _actual_ days, it was Eric fixing the ties. Today felt special though. Today was a day in **Europe** and Eric was really fucking tired of being the guy who never ever indulged. Vince had strong fingers and they were warm as they made concise, tickling movements under his chin. Eric refused to notice how Vince didn't make him feel small since he made his dick go thick in his tailored pants. 

"We good?" Vince asked, putting on a pose as if he needed Eric to inspect him. Vince always looked good enough for the red carpet; he didn't need Eric to tell him that but maybe he wanted to hear it. Eric wanted to say it. He liked to say the things that mattered to the people that mattered. 

"You're always good, Vince. Think I'll do?"

Vince blinded him with the force of his smile. It was the same smile he'd flashed when Eric had agreed to come watch his stupid play when they were in grade school. Eric hoped that smile never wore out for Vince. Vince deserved his innocence; he wore it well. 

" **You** are always good, E. I'm telling you, one of these days the ladies are going to notice and trample me in the effort to get to you."

Normal days, E would have let it slide and called it buddy humor to make himself more comfortable. This was Europe and he wanted to fucking _indulge_.

"Then I'll trust you to keep them all in line. You've got my back, right?"

Vince hesitated and Eric wondered if this was more dangerous than he thought. Vince's eyes should have warned him but E was living too hard to notice any warnings by then.

"Always."

Eric nodded and kept a hand on Vince's back as he ushered them out the door and back to the car waiting to go make Vince that little bit more famous. He was not surprised that Vince went along with it and let him. Eric had always been the careful one; Vince had never needed _Europe_ to encourage him to indulge.

~*~

On the red carpet, they let Turtle and Drama precede them out because European paparazzi are serious motherfuckers. Vince stood too close to E and E went with it. E went with it for what felt like a quarter of a mile and then Vince's hand brushed his own again...and Eric didn't pull back. He was smiling and Vince was actually fucking _laughing_ while they got photographed from every angle in their best suits. Vince's fingers were so long they touched his wrist when Eric let them tangle with his own. 

"The fuck are you _doing_!" Turtle hissed when he got close enough to them to speak.

Vince squeezed Eric's fingers and his smile was falling already and Eric wanted to fucking _not_. He leaned over into Turtle's space so he could talk.

"I'm working the carpet. What the fuck are **you** doing?"

Eric felt warm everywhere when Vince laughed, his happiness instantly restored. They walked the carpet that way and no less than two thousand shots could have been taken along their way. If this had been the _Spiderman_ opening, it would have been apt to say that Eric's _spidey-sense_ should have been tingling, but Vince was fucking _Aquaman_ and he didn't get a cool sense of premonition like that. 

~*~

"I don't want to talk about it," Vince stated as soon as they got into the car to take them back to the hotel. 

Drama looked was still hosting a layered look of outrage, disgust, and despair that made E wonder if maybe the man _could_ act if he ever got his head out of his ass long enough. Turtle was still fucking Turtle though.

"Yeah? Fuck you. You want to go all _Brokeback_ with E, you might not want to do it before you've got our next payday secure and _in the bank_ , Vince. You go down, we all go down. I'm just sayin'."

The two of them bailed as soon as the wheels stopped rolling. Eric didn't move to follow them. He tried instead---

"Vince, I didn't---"

"I said I didn't want to talk about it, E," Vince cut him off, his smile as innocent as ever but his eyes were full of all kinds of things Eric wish he'd noticed before he decided to stop living in _actual_ fucking reality where he really belonged.

Eric couldn't do more than nod and then it was Vince who kept a guiding hand on him as they made their way back to the suite. 

~*~

Vince pushed him towards the center of the room and spun, walking backward as he fumbled with E's suit jacket. The damned thing was tailored to fit snug and E tried to help so that it came off but it sent a set of cufflinks rattling across the floor in the process. E tried to see where they went -those things were not fucking cheap, Vince had always been a star and he was _never_ cheap- but wound up with a knee in his nuts and Vince's head knocking against his own as Vince tried to sit down and kiss him at the same time.

"Fuck!"

"Oh fuck! E! I swear to God, man. Are you okay? E?"

Vince panicking would have been cute if E wasn't busy trying to pinch the nerve endings in his crotch back into submission and his ears weren't ringing from the skull fracture he'd just received. Vince tilted his face up and checked out his forehead and E had a chance to notice that Vince would have been blushing if Vince _weren't_ such a good fucking actor.

"Were you trying to emasculate me or knock me unconscious with that move, Romeo?"

It should have been funny but it made Vince _actually_ blush. E **did** notice that as a warning but it was too late for take-backs now. There was no way at least _one_ of those photos wasn't going to make it back across the water.

"In my head, I just. I thought it would work better if I was sitting down. First, I mean."

"In your head? You've thought about this?"

Eric Murphy was not a good actor. He wasn't an actor at all. He wasn't being delusional, just testing the waters.

"Fuck you. You know I have."

Yeah. Right. He'd noticed plenty over the years but that didn't mean he _knew_.

"Fuck you. I don't know shit. Why don't you tell me?"

Vince tried to stare him down but E had grown up small and Irish in a neighborhood where being Vince Chase's best friend didn't _really_ make up for either of those things much less both. He wasn't surprised when Vince gave up staring and moved in for the kiss again instead.

Vince's head felt huge -like kissing a god- between his hands and Eric had never felt bigger. Vince let out a groan that was all need, all hunger and desire and familiarity and Eric knew this was for real. It was the same sound as the one Vince had made on prom night when he'd locked eyes with E in the rearview mirror as his date went down on him and E drove them in his mother's car to the after-prom party. E slipped his tongue between soft soft lips -He'd never knock lip-balm again.- and tasted the sour after-bite of the shitty expensive wine from dinner and the faintest hint of _his best friend_ underneath.

"You've thought about this?" Eric pulled back to ask. His dick was so fucking _actual_ against his thigh that a wet spot had already rubbed a lasting impression in the fine fabric of his pants.

"Yes. I've thought about **this** ," Vince replied, his tone teasing and his eyes anything but as they stared hard at the swollen wreck of E's lips.

E shook his head and started to frown as more of _actual_ reality crashed in on him, reminding him starkly of what his indulgence was---could cost them. Could cost Vince. Ari had warned him that he could fuck up Vince's career, seriously _fuck up_ Vince's career and he'd just what? It's Europe! Un-fucking-believable.

"Have you really, Vince? I shouldn't have---"

"Shouldn't have what, E? Kissed me? Held my hand? Ate off my fork? Let me feel your dick? You've done plenty of _shouldn't haves_ tonight."

Eric was focused on how Vince could have felt his dick without him noticing but he did notice when Vince grabbed his shirtfront and dragged him back into a bruising, point-proving kiss that lasted so long his mouth went numb. He could have kept going even after Eric lost feeling in his lips, even after Eric lost air in his lungs, and even after Eric possibly ceased to exist; Eric had never wanted to live in any moment as much as he wanted to live in that moment, that kiss, with Vince.

"Why? Why me, Vince?"

"Why ask me that, E? Why aren't you asking 'are you a fag, Vince?' or 'do you love cock, Vince?' or any of a thousand other questions any good manager would want to know the answer to. Why that one? Doesn't that say something to you? Doesn't that mean you **know** something, E? Or are we still pretending."

"You're good at pretending. You make millions because you're good at it and we live in Beverly Hills because you're good at it. Don't make this about that," Eric scoffed.

He couldn't look at Vince without seeing everything he'd ever wanted to see in exactly the place he'd never wanted to see it. The word 'fag' repeated in his head on loop but it wasn't Vince's voice he heard saying it.

"I know who I am, Vince. I don't need you to tell me who I am. You're the one who thinks I'm somebody. I'm just me. I'm just E. Eric. Eric-fucking-Murphy from Queens who couldn't even finish at Queens Community College and managed _Sbarro's_. I **know** who I am, Vince. I just wonder if I'm who you want me to be."

"Fuck you. I know who you are. You're the same guy you've always been. You're **E**. I know **exactly** who you are."

Vince had evidently found some humor in the situation but E couldn't hear anything but 'fag' and wondered if his mother would still pray for him if he committed a mortal sin. He didn't think he could stop himself. 

"Yeah? I'm Catholic. You think about that?"

Vince's hands rubbed up and down his arms, over his shoulders, his sides, like he couldn't stop touching him or he'd disappear. Vince was still smiling everywhere but in his eyes.

"Yeah. You think I'm worth going to Hell for? I think your mom would pray us out."

What bullshit. Eric knew Vince didn't believe in anything but himself and remembered kissing him with such clarity that E didn't really blame him. Faith paled in comparison to being _Vincent Chase_ , re-creator of worlds. God had made Eric but Vince had made him **E**. It was hard to tell which he appreciated more.

"I think Mom couldn't pray back your career. You think Ari is going to like those photos?"

Vince shook his concerns off and palmed his cock so suddenly Eric was surprised he didn't come. The hot, heavy, huge weight of Vince's hand against his crotch burned brightly more than his accidental knee-shot had earlier. 

"I think Ari wants to fuck me. I think Ari already thinks _you're_ fucking me. I think Ari would let me fuck his wife if I wanted. **I** think Ari Gold doesn't give a shit who I fuck so long as I sell papers and make movies. That's what I think about Ari."

Eric stepped too close to Vince, right between the long bones of his thighs, and bucked his hips and Vince's huge hand into the hard ridge of his best friend's dick. Un-fucking-believable. Vince tightened his grip and let go to grab Eric's hips rough and hard and serious.

"Fuck!"

"You've thought about this a lot, right?" 

Now it was Eric's turn to sound smug because he'd found the humor once again. Drama was right; guys were fucking easy. 

"I've thought about you a lot. I had a threesome over the summer. Me and this girl and a friend in the business. He never touched me but while we were fucking her, his hand came around her hip as I pushed in and his fingers brushed my arm. I came harder than I ever have in my life because I noticed his skin next to mine was pale and he had freckles. Like you."

Vince rested his forehead against E's and it reminded him there would likely be a fucking bruise there in the morning. There would be lover's quarrel headlines to go with the queer superhero jokes. Let Vince think his skin was poetic or whatever then. 

"So you want this, right? You know I'm not like you. I can't just---Vince I can't be casual."

Vince shoved him back and he stumbled more from the heat of Vince's palms on his chest than from the hit itself. He hadn't seen that coming.

"Do _you_ want this? I tell you I came harder than I ever have _in my life_ from touching a guy's _arm_ that reminded me of you and you think I'm **casual**? You know I want you. I've always wanted you. I've wanted you since you knocked me on my ass and told me I was pretty when we were six-years-old. Do you want **me** , E?"

What a fucking question. E snorted and shook his head.

"You said it yourself, Vince. Everyone wants you. You think I'm special, doesn't mean I am. What the Hell does that have to do with anything?"

Vince scooted back on the arm of the couch, moving away from him, back as though E were someone out to hurt him. The insecurity on his face was as innocent as it was obscene. Vince was _a star_. Vince was **never** insecure.

"Fine. Fuck. Vince. I want you. You want me to tell you I've known? I did know? I've always known? Fine. All that. You want to hear about how I spent our friendship carefully _not thinking about it_? That's how it is, Vince. I'm looking out for you."

"Looking out for me! Fuck you! **Fuck** you! I don't need you to look out for me. I need you to **want** me. **Me**. Vince. Not _Vincent Chase_ or _Aquaman_ or who-the-fuck-ever. **Me** , E. You think I'm the only one who sees you, but the truth is you're the only one who sees _me_."

Eric didn't think he'd get hit again but he was cautious all the same. When he got his hands in Vince's hair, he literally sighed in relief. It felt good to press the _actual_ weight of Vince's big head against the bruise forming on his own.

"I see you, Vince. I've always seen you. I just hope I'm the guy you think I am. I hope I can be that guy for you. This isn't going to be easy."

"You always have been. You always are. You're **you** , E. That's all I've ever needed. I don't need it to be easy."

Vince laughed shaky and warm against his neck and Eric couldn't stop himself from grinding his dick against the line of Vince's. He wondered if fucking hurt, if Vince would want him to top, if Vince would be disappointed. 

"Fuck you," Vince whispered, biting the statement into a new bruise on Eric's neck that he felt all the way down to his toes, "I'll handle the easy part, why don't you focus on the part that's **hard**."

Eric figured that was how it had always been, why should he be surprised when it didn't change? He wondered if it ever would, if he ever wanted it to, then he realized he didn't have to care anymore because he'd fucking _indulged_ enough that there was no _actual_ reality anymore, just Vince's reality, and they were both fucked if he couldn't work it.

"I can handle that."

"We're all good?"

He was still E and Vince was still Vince and this could _actually_ work. E could make it work. He'd never been anybody without Vince and he'd barely been somebody trying to avoid _being_ with Vince, maybe he could figure himself out once he was **with** Vince. Fuck it. Maybe Vince was the only one who'd been right all along. E wasn't too much of a coward to find out.

"Yeah. We're good."

E swallowed Vince's smile in a kiss and tried to live twenty years back into a moment before he realized he didn't have to push it. They had all night. Now, they had every night. E did hope they got to enjoy one before Ari got those photos. Fuck it. They were in **Europe** and _actual_ reality could wait until they _actually_ got back.

 


End file.
